


Humbled

by Zutara90



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 15:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11946891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zutara90/pseuds/Zutara90
Summary: When Aiden goes to kill Lucky Quinn at the Merlaut, not everything goes to plan. Now, not only is his life in danger, but so are Kenney and Clara's. Note: This is not a script of the Merlaut mission. I just used it as a starting point.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_I can’t believe I’m back here again. All this time and he was right here._

Aiden pushed aside his thoughts as he focused on the task at hand. The Merlaut loomed over him, reminding him of what had started it all. Standing on the manicured grass in front of the building, he surveyed the situation. Two guards stood at the front door. He would find no entry that way. Quinn was sure to have put him on the top of the South Club’s most wanted list and Aiden knew Quinn had his picture. He might have gotten away with it a few months back, but not since he had caused them so much trouble. Aiden walked around to the right and saw a side door—locked, but unguarded.

Despite his pounding heart, Aiden calmly walked to the door. He made no attempt to hide himself, but went to the door as if he worked at the hotel and had every right to enter through a secure door. He was no amateur. Aiden knew that trying to act inconspicuous was the best way to get caught. No one so much as glanced in his direction.

The lock was easy to hack and, with a buzzing click, it disengaged.

“I’m in,” Aiden muttered into his earpiece.

Clara’s soft voice answered back. “Be careful, Aiden. Lucky Quinn didn’t make it to the top of the underworld without taking out some big players.”

Aiden knew she was right. By all rights, he should have been nervous, even fearful. The Chicago South Club was nothing to laugh at. But he wasn’t afraid; wasn’t nervous. His hunger for revenge left no room for such indulgent feelings. The only thing he felt was anticipation and an eagerness to finally put a bullet through Lucky Quinn’s smug head.

“Don’t worry about me,” Aiden replied. He turned the handle and entered the hotel.

Aiden found himself in an empty hallway. It dead-ended to his right. Not needing to worry about being flanked, Aiden went left and hugged the wall until he came to the corner. He peered around the corner and saw a solitary guard with his back turned. It was too good of an opportunity to waste so Aiden stepped up behind him and took him out with his baton. Once he had dragged him around the corner, Aiden made a round of hacks through the cameras in the hotel lobby.

There were no more guards in the hallway Aiden occupied, but, through his sweep, Aiden counted eight more throughout the first level. Two stood by both entrances. Two more stood by the front desk. The final guards were pacing a loop around the lobby.

Mentally preparing himself, Aiden sidled around the corner and ducked behind a large planter against the wall. Owning his unauthorized presence may have worked with the general public, but The Club would spot him as soon as he stepped in front of them. And he didn’t want them to know he was there just yet. Surprise was one of the few things he had going for him and he wouldn’t give it up easily. From his new vantage point, Aiden could see the front desk. The hallway let out just a little behind it, so he could have walked up to the two men there without them knowing. He was just about to do so when a patrolman walked in front of the mouth of the hall, forcing him to pull back into cover. He didn’t wait for long.

As soon as the man had passed, Aiden pulled out his silenced pistol and charged up behind him. Grabbing him by the neck, Aiden successfully silenced the man’s shout for help, choking him, but keeping him on his feet. He steered the man around to face the guards at the desk and put them down in quick succession with two perfectly placed headshots. The Club members collapsed behind the desk. As far as Aiden could tell, no one had heard the commotion and view of the bodies was obstructed. His hostage had finally passed out so he hid him back in the hallway behind the very same planter he had used as cover.

Unfortunately, Aiden didn’t know where the second patrolman was when he had begun his assault. In a stroke of bad luck, the guard came around the corner just as Aiden stood back up.

“He’s here!” the man yelled.

As the man called for backup, Aiden took the moment’s hesitation to dive for cover, laying down a round of cover fire himself. None of the shots landed, but Aiden hadn’t expected them to. They had served their purpose and given him enough time to get behind the desk. Once there, he ran around the other side to flank the guard. His plan succeeded. Aiden came flying up behind the man and was just pointing his gun at his head when the two guards at the front door arrived having heard the call for help.

Aiden didn’t have time to jump for cover so instead he shot the man before him in the shoulder, causing the man to drop his gun. Aiden slid for the assault rifle and sprang up behind the man, grabbing him and using him as a human shield. The guard took several bullets from his comrades’ weapons before Aiden laid down a spray of gunfire in the direction of the foyer. Both men fell, clutching fatal wounds. Aiden dropped the dead weight he was struggling to hold up and crouched once again behind the bullet-ridden desk, taking stock of the situation. The good news was there were only two guards left. The bad news was that since his adversaries had opened fire and Aiden himself had ditched his silencer, the whole building knew something was up. Aiden had to act fast.

The men were already firing when they came into sight. Aiden had no choice but to stay put and wait them out. The problem was, these men were smarter than their companions. They alternated firing between themselves so that one could reload while the other kept Aiden contained. At that point, the desk wasn’t going to last much longer, much less Aiden. He had to take a chance or he wasn’t going to make it and he refused to let it end there.

Keeping as much of himself in cover as possible, Aiden stuck his right arm around the desk and blind fired until he heard a satisfying cry of pain. In the brief lull that followed, Aiden stood and, within the span of a second, aimed, fired, and felled his last opponent.

As the smoke cleared, Aiden suddenly felt a nagging sting on his right arm. He looked down to see a small tear in his jacket, a small trickle of blood oozing beneath. He had been hit, but barely. The bullet had only nicked the outside of his arm. It was the single, parting trophy from his encounter.

Ignoring the slight pain in his arm, Aiden went to recover his pistol. The magazine had been emptied with his last shot and he replaced it, at the same time moving toward the back of the lobby where the elevators were situated. Aiden pressed the button and waited in what would have been silence were the smooth jazz coming over the loudspeakers not still playing in a mockery of what had just transpired.

“I’m through the lobby. Getting into the elevator now,” Aiden reported into his earbud. There was no answer. “Clara? T-bone, you there?” Still nothing. “Shit. Must have jammed the coms when that guard raised the alarm,” Aiden murmured to himself.

A pleasant _ding_ sounded and the elevator doors opened before Aiden.

“Nothing I can do about it now,” he said as he stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the top floor. As the doors slid closed, Aiden added, “It’s time we met face to face, Lucky Quinn.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Aiden was brash, ruthless, maybe even a little crazy. But he was no fool. He knew there would be an ambush waiting for him on the top floor. As such, he pressed himself into the corner of the elevator, concealing himself as best he could just in case The Club got trigger happy when the doors opened.

He prepared himself for an inrush of bullets when the elevator finally reached the top floor and the doors glided open.

But nothing happened.

Instead a pair of men rushed into the elevator, pistols swinging around to the corners. One turned to find Aiden, who immediately grasped the pistol in his face and aimed it away from himself. At the same time, he shot the man with his own pistol and moved on to the next threat. The second man had turned his back to Aiden when first entering the elevator and so was at a disadvantage for a split second while Aiden dispatched his partner. But he was quick enough on the uptake to catch Aiden’s gun as Aiden had done to the first guard. Both struggled violently against each other until Aiden threw himself forward and head-butted the man, throwing him backwards. That gave Aiden enough time to get a shot off. He only needed one.

Stepping over the prone bodies, Aiden exited the elevator, thinking himself in the clear for the moment. He was wrong.

As soon as his foot hit the hardwood floor, a multitude of South Club cronies rose from cover around the room. Aiden was good at instantly sizing up a situation; counting threats, calculating odds. There were at least twenty men by his cursory count, all with fully automatic weapons trained on him.

“Shit.”

“Drop it!” A man in the middle of the room shouted. “You can’t fight your way out of this one.”

Aiden wasn’t a fool and neither was he suicidal. Antagonizing a group like that would only end up getting him killed. Even if he dove for what little cover there was, so many bullets would go flying that he was bound to get hit. Even if he did make it behind something, then what? He couldn’t take on that many men with a single pistol from such an indefensible location. At most, he figured his odds at taking out half of them, but clearly that would get him nowhere.

He did the only thing he could.

Aiden held his hands up in surrender, letting his gun hang loose around his finger. The men around the room didn’t seem to trust his gesture and held steady, seemingly waiting for Aiden to turn on them the way they had seen him do to countless others.

“Stop standing there, you idiots, go get him!” the same man ordered.

A few came forward at his command. When Aiden made no move to stop them, one man roughly yanked the gun from Aiden’s hand, then kicked him in the back of his knee. Aiden fell with a grunt. Emboldened, the man forced Aiden’s hands behind his back and zip-tied them together.

At that moment, Aiden heard the sound of footsteps. And a cane. He looked up to see Lucky Quinn striding toward him.

“Mr. Pearce. How nice of you to join us,” Quinn said in his weaselly voice.

Aiden sneered in return. His rage was building within him again.

“I’m curious,” Quinn continued, “what your plan was. You were just going to waltz in here and take on the entire South Club single-handed? Armed with nothing more than pistol? I’m not sure if that’s brave or just stupid. Either way, you’ve caused me too much trouble and cost me too much money to let you get away with it. I suppose I should really be thanking you. You’ve saved me the trouble of having to track you down.”

Throughout Quinn’s monologue, Aiden’s lip kept curling and he clenched and unclenched his jaw in an effort to subdue his fury.

“I’m sure you’d like to put a bullet through my head, wouldn’t you?” Lucky Quinn stated nonchalantly, picking up on Aiden’s cues. “Well you’d better get in line. Many people in this city want me dead. The rest think I’m a hero. What makes you so special? I’ll tell you.” He leaned in next to Aiden’s ear and whispered, “Absolutely nothing.”

No longer able to contain himself, Aiden spat, “You’re a crook and a murderer.”

“And you’re a liar and a thief,” Quinn retorted. “We could throw names at each other all day, Mr. Pearce. You see, we are the same, you and I. We’re both willing to do whatever it takes to remove obstacles in our way. The difference is, I have all the power.”

“I _will_ kill you.”

“Naivety. I used to possess that as well. I was lucky enough to outgrow it before it got me killed. It doesn’t seem that you will have the same luxury.” Lucky Quinn turned to leave, waving his free hand over his head and announcing to the room, “You know what to do with him, boys.”

Aiden didn’t have time to think about what was going to happen next. If he did, he would have thought for sure that he was going to die. That he had rushed in blindly and would pay the ultimate price for it. That Lena would never get justice. And that his body would most likely be displayed as a warning to others with vendettas against Dermot “Lucky” Quinn.

But before he could form the thoughts in his head, a man to his left brought the butt of a pistol across his face and Aiden knew no more. 

* * *

"Aiden? Aiden can you hear me?" Clara sat facing the illuminated computer screen before her. She and Kenney had both stayed behind in the Bunker while Aiden went to settle his dispute with Lucky Quinn. T-Bone had offered to go with him, but Aiden had refused, stating that he had to do it alone. That he couldn’t let T-Bone get hurt because of his own personal vendetta.

T-Bone came over to Clara at the sound of her query, resting his hand on the back of her chair. "What's wrong?"

"I can't get through to Aiden."

"I thought the coms were jammed."

"They were. They came back up ten minutes ago and still nothing."

"Well, Aiden does have his hands full at the moment. He's probably just too busy to answer."

"I don't know. This doesn't feel right."

"Well you're tracking his phone aren't you? Where is he right now?"

"Still in the Merlaut." Clara pointed to the monitor which displayed a satellite view of Chicago. In the top corner was a small blinking light indicating Aiden's location. It stood square in the middle of the Merlaut hotel.

"Then we've got nothing to worry ab—"

"Wait," Clara interrupted.

"Now what?" Kenney asked, somewhat exasperated by Clara’s excessive worrying.

"It's gone," Clara said, staring, dumbfounded, at the screen.

"What do you mean, it's gone?”

"The signal. It just disappeared." Suddenly in a panic, Clara started typing furiously.

"It can't just disappear." Clara's panic was infectious and T-Bone started the feel his heart climb into his throat. He went back to his station to try his luck at the problem.

"It was right there. And then, nothing. This doesn't make any sense. The only reason that signal would go cold is if Aiden's phone was destroyed. Or he took the battery out. I don't like this, T-Bone. Something has to be wrong,” Clara stated, turning to plead her case to T-Bone.

But he didn’t need any convincing. He agreed that something about the situation didn’t smell right. Rising from his chair, he grabbed his coat from the back of it and started up the steps to the entrance of the Bunker. Pausing on the landing, he called, "You stay here and see if you can figure anything out. I'm heading over there. Maybe I can get a sense of what's happening. Keep me updated."

As he climbed the rest of the stairs, Clara returned to her computer, sending a silent prayer for Aiden's safety.

"What's going on over there?" She quietly asked the screen.

Naturally, it didn't answer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Aiden came to with a pounding headache, but no other injuries that he could tell. He was seated in an old wooden chair, his wrists zip-tied to the arms. Looking at the arms of the chair, he noted scratches along the ends from the desperate fingernails of former occupants. It was clearly not the first time someone had been tied to it.

Stretching a neck sore from supporting a limp head for so long, Aiden looked around the room. He seemed to be in a basement. Probably the basement of the Merlaut; at least, that would have made the most sense. The room was dark with most of the light centered on Aiden, leaving the edges of the room in deep shadow.

Seeing that Aiden had awoken, a man stepped out of the darkness. It was the man in charge from upstairs. A crew of three men followed suit, spanning out around Aiden. The leader ambled toward Aiden, a smug expression on his face.

“Looks like Sleeping Beauty has finally woken up. But there ain’t gonna be no happy ending for you.” He stopped a few feet in front of Aiden. “See, here’s the thing. I would happily pop a few rounds in your ass and call it a day. But Lucky’s got other plans. He sees the big picture. He doesn’t want your little buddies stirring up trouble. Even if we took you out, they’re bound to cost Lucky more money, and Lucky don’t like that idea. So I’m gonna ask you real nice where they are and you’re going to tell me. Cause if you don’t, my friends here are gonna ask the same question and they tend to be a little hot-tempered.”

“Go to hell,” responded Aiden with a confident smirk. He was goading the man. He needed him to come closer because they had made a fatal mistake—they hadn’t bound Aiden’s feet. And he was going to make them pay for their imprudence. He didn’t know how he was going to get out of his current predicament, but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

Obligingly, the man stepped closer, placing his face inches from Aiden’s. His tone grew serious. “I’m going to let that little comment slide because I’m in somewhat of a hurry. Now, tell me whe—”

Not waiting for the man to finish, Aiden kicked him square in the groin, causing the man to double over. Aiden then stood, having to stay somewhat crouched because of the chair still strapped to him. He spun swiftly, turning a neat circle to smash the leg of the chair into the man’s pained face. A tooth clattered against the far wall and blood splattered across the floor.

Aiden heard his yelp, but had already moved on to his next target. Extending his spin, Aiden slammed the second man against the wall with the legs of the chair. When the man fell, Aiden sat the chair down on top of him, pinning him to the ground as a third guard charged at him from the front. Aiden kicked him with both legs, causing the man to stumble backwards. He rose to his feet to go after the man.

Had Aiden been able to break free from the chair, he could have easily taken everyone down without breaking a sweat. So encumbered, he stumbled as he charged his next opponent. Agile as he was, he was able to salvage the fall and turn it into a tackle, but that ended up being his undoing. He fell face-down on top of the man and couldn’t right himself before the rest of the gang was on him.

They flipped him over onto his back and pummeled him ceaselessly. Aiden managed only to land a few kicks until a lucky hit to his temple sent him into unconsciousness once more.

* * *

 

He awoke for a second time, but this time bloodied and bruised. It reminded Aiden of the first time he met Raymond Kenney. They had drunk themselves into a stupor then crashed through a window and commenced a bare-knuckled brawl. Aiden had roused the next morning with a massive hangover and generally worse for wear. But Aiden was unlikely to make allies of his current company like he had then.

While Aiden was unconscious, the Club members had taken the liberty to switch out the wooden chair for a metal one to which both Aiden's arms and legs were strapped. For extra measure, the chair had been bolted to the ground. Aiden couldn't fault them for not learning from their mistakes, much to his chagrin. Contrary to his initial intentions, he was now rightly and truly screwed.

As Aiden straightened in his chair, the twinge in his side betrayed a few broken ribs. With a groan, he looked up to see the leader of the gang, livid. His face was just as bloodied and swollen as Aiden's. When their eyes met, the man let loose a snarl and stalked toward Aiden.

"You're gonna pay for that, mother fucker." His words were slightly skewed by his fat lip, but no less threatening because of it. He strode right up to Aiden and landed a kick on the inside of his knee.

The damage might not have been so devastating if Aiden's ankle weren't tied to the chair. As it was, his ankle caught on the zip-tie and his upper leg stopped against the arm of the chair, forcing his knee outward, unnaturally moving free of its usual connections.

Aiden howled in a torrent of pain as he felt tendons and ligaments stretch to their limits. It was amazing his knee didn't dislocate, but Aiden was sure there had to have been a few tears at the least.

The man stepped back a pace, grinning at the pain he had wrought. Aiden's leg hung lifeless at an awkward angle and he hissed heaving grunts through his clenched teeth as the agony slowly abated.

"Now, where are they?!" the man shouted angrily.

Aiden had to take a moment to steady himself. The pain in his knee was still agonizing, but he shot through panted breaths, "Fuck you."

"There's no way out of here except to tell me where they are. And don't count on your little friends coming to save you either. We took the battery out of your phone so there's no tracking you. They have no idea where you are," he smiled.

Aiden furrowed his brow in confusion at the last statement. He had firmly believed he was still in the Merlaut. Not that he expected T-Bone to come save him, but the thought still threw him off balance. Was the man bluffing? Aiden couldn't tell. And he was usually good at reading people. He couldn't let it get to him.

When Aiden offered no response, the man motioned to his cronies. One carried a car battery forward and placed it on a table next to Aiden. Two cables hung down from its connections. Aiden didn't need to be told what they were for. He had lived a long time in the seedy underworld of Chicago and seen many things he would have gladly forgotten. He'd even performed some of those unspeakable acts.

None of it made what was coming any easier. Aiden steeled himself for the inevitable.

He watched helplessly as they tore open his jacket and cut through his shirt. One man came in front of Aiden holding the wires in his hands. With a toothy grin, he experimentally touched the ends of the wires together, sending a shower of sparks flying accompanied by the static-filled hiss of electricity. Then he turned to Aiden.

As soon as the live wire touched Aiden’s bare chest, his jaw clenched in protest, mirroring every other muscle in his body. Adding to the misery were Aiden’s broken ribs which were violently wrenched by his spasming muscles. His knee betrayed him as well, jerking and twisting with his leg. Eventually, Aiden’s scream overpowered his clenched teeth, forcing them open. The resulting sound echoed through the chamber.

When the man finally let off, Aiden was panting heavily and his fingers retained a slight twitch. It was the most pain he had ever been in, by far. And there was no end in sight. One thing he would never do was betray his friends though. It was a line he simply couldn’t cross, no matter what. They had risked their necks for him just by helping him. It would be a poor repayment to sell them out. He would endure whatever came—for their sakes.

There was little pause before the gripping pain racked his body once more. And in that manner, the torture continued. In between each shock, they would ask where his partners were. At first, he continued spitting insults and denials at them. It wasn’t long, however, before a faint “No” was all he could muster.

The world faded in and out of focus. His captors were too enraged to realize how close to death he truly was. Ironically, it was the man that had sent him there that saved his life.

Through a dense fog, Aiden heard Lucky Quinn enter the room and start arguing with the man in charge. He could only catch snippets of the conversation.

“…no use to us dead. I told you I wanted this whole matter tied up in a neat little bow. But apparently that was too much for your thick skull to comprehend.”

Aiden’s concentration was waning despite his effort. The conversation started to make less and less sense as his attentiveness failed him.

“I don’t care what he did…need to control yourselves…don’t forget you are very easily replaced.”

Aiden held on as long as he could, straining to hear what they were saying. He only managed to catch four words before darkness took him:

“Use him as bait.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"There's nothing there."

"What do you mean, there's nothing there?" Clara asked.

T-Bone was driving around the city, in the slim hope that he might stumble upon Aiden's trail. He knew it was futile, but his search at the Merlaut had left him frustrated and scared for Aiden and he couldn't stand not doing anything. He had been recounting his excursion to the hotel to Clara, who reflected his frustration.

"I mean the place is deserted. I walked right through the front doors without so much as a glance in my direction. The South Club has cleared out."

"I don't understand. Why would they do that?"

"I don't know. Aiden was there though. That much I could tell. The place was riddled with bullet holes. They may have done a good job cleaning the place up, but they couldn't hide those."

"So Aiden might have succeeded?"

"It's hard to say, but I don't think so. If someone like Lucky Quinn gets taken out, it's sure to start a riot in the media. But there's nothing on the news about it. And I doubt they would try to hide his death. Quinn's a celebrity to the public. All those too stupid to realize he's the biggest crime lord in the whole damn city. Aiden might have finally bitten off more than he can chew."

"But, you don't think he's..." Clara couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. Luckily, T-Bone didn't let her get that far anyway.

"No. I doubt they got him either. Quinn would be plastering Aiden's face all over the news if he stopped the infamous vigilante. Don't forget that Aiden's not exactly on good terms with the police." T-Bone changed tack, uncomfortable with talking about Aiden's potential demise. "Any luck with his phone?"

"No. Nothing. But there's not much I can do. Unless Aiden's phone comes back online, it's impossible to track."

"Just keep working on it. I'm gonna keep poking around the city. See what I can find."

With that, T-Bone’s drive lapsed back into uncomfortable silence. With nothing to distract him, a war of thoughts raged in his mind, each fighting for dominance.

Aiden had to be alive. He was... well, Aiden. He always had a way out. Always pulled through somehow. But at the same time, Aiden wasn't exactly rational when it came to his family. To avenge Lena, he would have gone to any lengths. Even Aiden didn't fully know what he was walking into when he went to the Merlaut. Were they waiting for him? Was it a trap? No. Aiden was smarter than that, right? But maybe he didn't even care. As long as he killed Lucky Quinn, maybe he didn't care that he made it out alive. But Aiden's mission had grown into more than just revenge since he started his vendetta. He was out to protect the people of Chicago, not just avenge Lena. And he was no use to anyone dead. He had to know that.

T-Bone couldn't stop the torrent of thoughts flooding his head and they drove him more and more crazy the longer they flowed. Until, miraculously, Clara called.

"I found him!" she exclaimed.

"What? How?!"

"It was just like before. His signal just popped up out of the blue."

"Where?"

"South side of The Loop. I'm sending the coordinates to your phone."

"I'm on my way."

T-Bone had been patrolling the northernmost sector of Chicago. The Loop was on the other side of the city. It would take him awhile to get there. And his gut told him Aiden didn't have that time. What was he doing down there? And why was his phone off?

Clara echoed his thoughts. "T-Bone I don't like this. Aiden mysteriously disappears and then shows up on the other side of town without a word of explanation? Something's up."

"I know, but I don't think it really matters. Yeah, it's probably some kind of trap, but this is Aiden we're talking about; and damn it all, but I like the guy. We have to at least check it out."

"Just be careful, T-Bone. It won't help Aiden if you end up dead."

"Hey, careful's my middle name," T-Bone joked. "Plus I've got a whole armory in my car here. If the South Club shows, they'll be sorry."

Now that T-Bone had something to do, something to focus on, his usual sarcastic personality had returned. It was the helpless waiting that set him on edge. He just had to go get Aiden. And bring Aiden and himself back in one piece.

* * *

 

After what felt like an eternity, T-Bone pulled up on the coordinates Clara had sent him. They had brought him to an abandoned area under a highway overpass. It was littered with shattered concrete blocks, broken pallets, and rusted oil drums. The area looked as though the homeless had once camped there, but even they had abandoned it. It stood in a complete state of disarray.

The only way in or out of the area was the way T-Bone had come. The area backed up onto the river on two fronts. It was the perfect site for an ambush.

Due to the clutter, T-Bone couldn't drive any further. He would have to continue on foot. He cautiously stepped from his car, loading up on weapons, ammo, and grenades.

He glanced around, but couldn’t see Aiden anywhere. It was dark. Only two street lamps lit the space, one flickering on and off.

“Aiden!” T-Bone whispered his shout. It was a strangely contrary act, but one that felt somehow appropriate in the situation. When he received no reply, T-Bone wound his way through the concrete pylons of the overpass, keeping his gun at the ready. It wasn’t until he was halfway to the water that he saw a foot sticking out from behind one of the concrete blocks.

“Aiden!” This time, his shout was not hushed. He ran forward, spurred on by hope and dread in equal measure.

T-Bone rounded the corner to find Aiden slumped against a row of concrete blocks. His phone lay haphazardly in his lap as though someone had thrown it on top of him. The light blinked from the multiple messages both Clara and T-Bone had left him, trying to reach him in vain.

At first, T-Bone feared the worst, but upon closer inspection, he could see a thin plume of breath issuing from Aiden’s slightly parted lips. He knelt down to feel Aiden’s pulse. It was thready and weak. Satisfied that he was alive, T-Bone took in the rest of Aiden’s condition. He could see burns covering Aiden’s exposed chest and his right leg sat at an abnormal angle.

_What did they do to you?_

T-Bone quickly dialed up Clara to give her the news.

Her worried voice didn’t give him a chance to speak first. “Did you find him?”

“Yeah, he’s here. But he’s in bad shape. Very bad.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know yet. Look, I gotta get him out of here. I’ll keep you posted.” T-Bone stowed his phone and returned his attention to Aiden.

T-Bone grasped Aiden by the shoulders and shook him slightly. “Aiden? Come on, man, wake up. Aiden!” Aiden stirred faintly.

In a weak voice, Aiden slurred, “T-Bone.”

“Oh, thank God! Aiden, we have to get you out of here.”

“T-Bone, run. It’s an ambush. You have to leave me.”

Just then, four black SUVs came barreling into view. Screeching to halt, South Club cronies began pouring from the cars, wasting no time in starting to shoot at T-Bone and Aiden.

T-Bone ducked into cover next to Aiden. “Shit!” he swore. “Looks like it’s too late for that. Time for plan B,” he said, raising his rifle meaningfully.

While the gang was still gathered around the cars, T-Bone lobbed a grenade over his head at one of the SUVs. A break in the fire was accompanied by the panicked shouts of "Grenade!" and the sound of men diving out of the way. Five weren't fast enough. In a blinding flash of light, the SUV exploded, sending glass and shrapnel flying. The car came crashing back to the earth with a sickening crunch. It sat ablaze, pluming black smoke.

In the confusion that followed, T-Bone took down two more South Club members with his assault rifle. Taking down seven men in the span of a few seconds was a feat, but it wasn’t enough. The remaining men scattered, seeking cover behind the numerous concrete blocks and pylons; all the while laying down an endless barrage of bullets. T-Bone continued to pick off a few here and there, but they crept ever closer and Aiden was still immobile. The grenades were effectively useless with the enemy so spread out.

T-Bone started to panic. He didn’t have a plan C. They were hemmed in by the water behind them and to their right and the Club was moving around to their left to flank them. It was only a matter of time before they had direct shots. Kenney was handy with a gun and he could hold his own, but he had  always been more comfortable behind a computer. Firefights were more Aiden’s thing. But it didn’t look like Aiden was in any fit state to help.

T-Bone threw another grenade around to the left where a group of men were just about to flank them. It killed one of them and gravely injured another while the final man fled back to the safety of a nearby column. That bought them a few more minutes.

Ducking back behind the bullet-ridden concrete, T-Bone took a moment to reload. For the first time, he had the thought that they genuinely weren’t going to make it. Maybe if they made it to the water, T-Bone could swim pulling Aiden behind him. Underwater, the threat of the guns would be nullified. But they probably wouldn’t make it to deep enough water without turning into Swiss cheese. T-Bone thought about drawing them off somehow and coming back for Aiden later, but he didn’t want to take that chance.

They were out of options.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Aiden hated that T-Bone had come. That he had drawn him into this. He watched as T-Bone defended them both, but Aiden knew the situation was bad. The only time there was ever a break in the fire was when T-Bone threw a grenade, but he only had one more. T-Bone had plenty of weapons and ammo, but they were pointless if he couldn’t pop his head up without someone blowing a hole straight through it.

When the firefight had started, Aiden had tried to rouse himself, but to no avail. He only managed to hunch over further, making sure that he was fully shielded. Despite how far gone he was, his instincts had taken over. He wasn’t going down because some stray bullet hit the top of his head. From that vantage point, he watched as the proceedings progressed in slow motion, T-Bone standing occasionally to fire off a shot.

It was a few minutes later that Aiden realized he had lost consciousness. T-Bone’s second grenade had snapped him back to reality. Something had changed. T-Bone looked desperate, as though he were weighing his options. Which Aiden knew were nonexistent.

Aiden had to do something. He couldn’t just sit there no matter what condition he was in. He had spent so long risking his life, trying to find the person who hurt his family. Hurt Lena. When he sent his sister and nephew away, he had thought his family was safe. But now he had a new family. Clara and T-Bone were risking their lives with him.

It was too late for Lena, but T-Bone was right there. Aiden had to fight. Fight for someone who could still be saved.

With adrenaline coursing through his veins, Aiden willed himself into a half crouch. T-Bone was too preoccupied to notice Aiden rise.

Aiden gestured to him, projecting his voice over the din of the gunfire. “T-Bone! Gun!”

T-Bone’s head snapped around in surprise at Aiden’s voice. He paused, not knowing how Aiden had come to be so mobile.

Aiden motioned again. “Gun!”

T-Bone may still have been confused, but he tossed Aiden his rifle, pulling out a pistol for himself. Aiden was glad he had given him the automatic. He wasn’t sure he could pull off the accuracy needed to wield a pistol.

Not wanting to waste any energy, Aiden quickly laid out his basic plan.

Pointing behind T-Bone, Aiden shouted, “Go left!”

T-Bone nodded in understanding, bringing his gun up to the ready.

Aiden edged over to a pillar, standing upright with a groan. He looked back at T-Bone. On a silent three-count, Aiden stepped out and shot four before they realized where the shots were coming from. T-Bone followed immediately after, taking advantage of their diverted attention. He felled two.

With their attention divided, the remaining men didn’t stand a chance. Aiden flew from column to block to column, all the while picking off Club members. T-Bone matched his advance on the opposite side. They fought forward until only two men were left.

Aiden was gasping for breath by that time. He had been hobbling the best that he could on his injured leg, mostly pushing through the pain to use it normally. His whole body was sore and every time the recoil hit him, he had gritted his teeth as his broken ribs threatened to break through his skin. His resolve was waning, but he pushed his body just a little further. Only two more and they were home-free.

His determination came to naught. As soon as he swiveled out from the pillar, Aiden was thrown backward by a sudden sting in his shoulder. He fell, blood seeping from his wound. 

* * *

T-Bone tried to warn Aiden, but the words didn’t form fast enough. In a glance over his shoulder, T-Bone saw both men aiming in Aiden’s direction. Aiden had chosen that unlucky moment to show himself. The next thing T-Bone knew, Aiden was on the ground, clutching his shoulder. As much as he wanted to make sure Aiden was okay, T-Bone had to eliminate the South Club’s presence first and he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity he had been handed. With both of them focused on Aiden, it was child’s play for T-Bone to pick off the last two men.

The silence following the gunfight was deafening.

Hesitating for a moment, T-Bone made sure they were truly alone before running over to Aiden.

Aiden had dropped his gun, instead grabbing his shoulder in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The red trail across Aiden’s hand and jacket was evidence that his attempt wasn’t proving effective. T-Bone had to get Aiden out of there. His time was limited.

“Come on, Aiden, we have to go,” T-Bone said, helping Aiden to his feet.

Aiden stood shakily, head drooping as T-Bone wrapped Aiden’s arm over his shoulders. Since they had come so far forward, they were much closer to T-Bone’s car than where T-Bone had found Aiden. The car had a few bullet holes in it, but it still worked.

T-Bone set Aiden in the passenger’s seat then hurried to the driver’s side and fired up the engine. Throwing the car in reverse, T-Bone ploughed through the SUV blocking his exit. Once clear, he pulled a 180 and sped up the street.

In the seat next to him, T-Bone saw Aiden struggle to say conscious. It was a battle he was clearly losing. Aiden’s head would sag then snap back up as he caught himself drifting off. Every time it happened, his head would dip lower and wouldn’t recover quite as much.

T-Bone raced to the hospital. He didn’t want to take Aiden there. If anyone found out who he was, he was done for. But Aiden needed help. And much more than T-Bone or Clara could provide. Keeping Aiden out of jail wouldn’t matter if he was dead.

 “Come on, man, stay with me,” T-Bone kept repeating to Aiden.

The cars and street lights blurred past. When T-Bone pulled into the hospital lot, Aiden started wheezing, fighting to breathe. He was deteriorating. Fast.

Screaming to a stop in front of the ER, Kenney leapt out of the car and ran through the doors, proclaiming, “My friend needs help! Now!!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

“Clear the way!” the doctor ordered as she and a group of nurses rushed Aiden down the hallway on a gurney.

To the hospital’s credit, they didn’t ask questions when T-Bone came bursting through the doors. They sprang into action immediately, pulling the barely conscious Aiden from the car. But then, T-Bone Grady didn’t have a face people felt they could ignore.

He followed closely behind the emergency team as they ministered to Aiden. They already had an IV going with a bag of O Negative feeding into it. One man held a gauze pad over Aiden’s bullet wound, trying to stanch the bleeding. Another took his blood pressure and heartrate, reporting, “Elevated heartrate, blood pressure dropping.” The other three nurses carried out various duties in an attempt to get Aiden stabilized.

The main doctor turned to Kenney. “What’s his name?”

“Aiden,” T-Bone answered automatically, then scrunched his face as he realized his mistake. He had been too distraught to come up with an alias for Aiden on the fly. _Too late now_ , he thought. T-Bone didn’t have long to regret his slipup because Aiden was going downhill and stole T-Bone’s attention back.

Upon hearing Aiden’s name, the doctor put it to use straightaway. “Aiden? Aiden, can you hear me?” she asked as she waved a light over each eye. His eyes were rolling, his face exceedingly pale. Understandably, he didn’t respond. She moved down toward his chest and parted his torn shirt to assess his condition.

“General bruising over the body, extensive electrical burns across the chest, several broken ribs, gunshot wound to the left shoulder,” she listed. When Aiden started being unable to breathe, she added, “His lung is collapsing. We need to intubate.” One of the technicians obeyed, inserting a long tube into Aiden’s trachea and squeezing the attached bag every couple of seconds.

Noticing his leg laying at an obscure angle, the doctor went over to check it. “Severely sprained knee. Possible torn ligaments,” she said with disbelief then looked once again to T-Bone. “What happened?”

T-Bone couldn’t think of any lie that would suitably explain Aiden’s state so he just told the truth—partly. “Ran into the South Club.” It certainly wasn’t a lie. And the South Club was a serious presence in Chicago. It couldn’t have been the first time they had sent someone to the hospital in critical condition.

The doctor’s widening eyes confirmed T-Bone’s assumption.

One of the nurses looked across the gurney to the nurse on the other side, inquiring in a whisper, “How is he still alive?”

The other technician shook his head and shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. By all rights, he shouldn’t be.”

T-Bone heard their discourse and knew the answer, though he didn’t say it aloud. The simple fact was—it was Aiden. Aiden could take a beating like no other man T-Bone knew and still keep on going. He certainly had in the past. But every man had his limits. T-Bone hoped Aiden hadn’t just reached his.

When they neared a set of swinging doors, one of the nurses detached from the procession and stopped T-Bone from entering. T-Bone protested none too subtly, fighting to gain entrance. “You better get out of the way, little missy. That’s my friend in there and I’m not leaving him.”

T-Bone tried to push past the woman, but to her credit, she continued to bar the way. “No, you can’t go in there, sir. Your friend is going to get all the help he needs.” When T-Bone didn’t back off, she raised her voice, saying, “You won’t be any help to him in there, sir! Let us do our jobs.”

At that, T-Bone stood still, simply staring through the small window in the door at Aiden. Seeing that T-Bone would pose no more threat, the nurse pushed through the door and returned to her post. The frantic beeping of the machines attached to Aiden and the chorus of voices spewing medical jargon assaulted T-Bone as the doors swung open; then left him in intolerable silence as they sealed closed.

Scared and unsure, T-Bone watched as the staff bustled around Aiden’s lifeless form. It drove him crazy to not be in the room, but the nurse had been right. He couldn’t do anything more for Aiden.

He stared, horrified, pressing closer to the window when Aiden started convulsing on the table, forcing a few of the nurses to step back. Worse still was when Aiden crashed back to the table and ceased moving. The green spikes on the monitor flattened to a solid, straight line. One of the technicians plunged a needle into Aiden, injecting him with a clear substance while another wheeled the defibrillator over. The doctor grabbed the paddles and mouthed the word “Clear!” before placing them on Aiden’s chest. His chest heaved, but the line remained on the monitor. She charged the paddles again. Still nothing. For a third time, the electricity raced to Aiden’s heart, this time forcing it back into motion. The doctor stowed the paddles and T-Bone let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

He lost sight of Aiden when someone from the hospital staff came and gently nudged him towards the waiting room. He let himself be led away, too much in shock to object. 

* * *

“What’s happening over there?”

It had been a few hours since T-Bone entered the waiting room. Unable to sit still, he had paced the tiled floor incessantly, every horrible possibility running wild in his imagination. He had only just remembered to call Clara. He had already brought her up to speed on what had happened up until they arrived at the hospital. He spared her the details thereafter.

“Aiden’s… alive. He’s in surgery now. I haven’t heard any news yet.”

“That’s it, I’m coming over there.”

“No! Clara, you gotta lay low.” T-Bone lowered his voice when a few people shot him interested glances. “I’m pretty sure the Club isn’t very happy we just shot up half their crew. They’re after all of us, and no offense, but you ain’t exactly familiar with a gun. Just stay in the Bunker until we get back. You’ll be safe there.”

“I don’t care about being safe. Aiden needs—”

“Aiden needs medical help. And he’s getting it. There’s nothing you can do for him here, so just stay in the Bunker. Please.”

Clara let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine.”

T-Bone looked up and saw the Aiden’s doctor walking towards him from across the room. He told Clara, “I gotta go,” then turned to face the woman.

Forestalling T-Bone’s question, she held up a hand and said, “Aiden’s out of surgery. We’ve removed the bullet and patched him up as best we could. His lung has been re-inflated and he’s stable for now.”

“Where is he?”

At his request, the doctor showed T-Bone to Aiden’s room at the end of the ICU. He lay unconscious on the bed, the IV still dripping slowly into the catheter.

The doctor spoke again, drawing T-Bone back to her. “I don’t know what happened to your friend, but he’s lucky to be alive. I’ve seen a few come in here after their run-ins with the South Club looking like that. But none of them were this bad. And none of them ever walked out again.”

“Aiden’s just lucky, I guess.” It was the only thing T-Bone could think to say.

The woman paused, staring at Aiden as if thinking of a way to broach a difficult subject. When the silence stretched into awkwardness, she finally broke it. “Look, I couldn’t help but noticing your friend’s clothing. He almost looks like that guy that’s been on the news lately. That vigilante.”

T-Bone masked the fear that had risen to his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talk—” he started to lie.

The woman cut him off mid-sentence. “It’s ok. You don’t have to lie. You have nothing to fear from me.” At the look of confusion on T-Bone’s face, she went on. “A few months ago, my sister was on her way home from work. She was in a hurry and cut across some back alleys. I always told her not to, that it was dangerous in this city, but she didn’t listen. Two blocks from her house, a man stepped out in front of her in an alley. When she turned to run, another man blocked the exit behind her.

“They were going to rape her, rob her, maybe even kill her. She screamed, but no one came to help. Until the vigilante showed up. He took care of the men and made sure she was alright. He came to her rescue when no one else would.

“Since that day, I’ve been wishing that I would one day get a chance to thank that man. Today I did. So you don’t have to worry. I haven’t told anyone my suspicions. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a hero.”

Stunned into silence at the turn of events, T-Bone merely nodded his understanding before the doctor exited the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Aiden woke an hour later. He looked groggily around the room, trying to piece together what had happened. He didn’t remember anything after being shot in the firefight. His eyes found T-Bone at the window, peeling the curtains back to check outside. He looked tense and anxious and nearly jumped when Aiden croaked his name.

“T-Bone.”

“Aiden! Man it’s good to hear your voice. For a while there, I thought you’d be pushing up daisies.”

“Is Clara alright?”

“Don’t worry, she’s fine. I told her to stay put in the Bunker for now.”

“Please tell me I’m not in a hospital right now because it sure looks like a hospital to me.”

“I didn’t _want_ to bring you here, Aiden, but I didn’t exactly have a choice! You got shot and pulling bullets out of shoulders and bringing people back from the dead is a bit beyond my expertise for Christ’s sake!”

“We can’t stay here. We’re sitting ducks. Don’t you think this is the first place the South Club is going to come looking? Not to mention the police, most of which is in Lucky Quinn’s pocket. Hospitals have to report bullet wounds.”

“You don’t have to worry about the doctor reporting to the police. Trust me. She recognized you from the news. Apparently you saved her sister a few months back.”

“Either way, the South Club is bound to show up eventually. We have to get back to the Bunker.”

“Are you crazy? You’re injured, Aiden. You can’t just up and leave the hospital after getting shot. Not to mention whatever happened before that, which you have yet to tell me.”

“I’ll tell you when you get me out of here. You’re right, I’m hurt and I don’t think I can get out of here on my own. But I will if I have to.” To prove his point, Aiden swung his legs over the side of the bed, sending a sharp wave of pain through his core. He started disconnecting himself from the myriad medical machines. T-Bone remained motionless on the other side of the bed. “You gonna help me or not?” Aiden asked a little heatedly.

“Ah, fuck it! If you die because of this, I’m gonna kill you.” T-Bone edged around the bed and helped Aiden get dressed, forgoing the useless shirt. He then slung one of Aiden’s arms around his shoulders, helping him to stand and leading him to the door. Aiden hobbled along well enough for all of his injuries. His left arm sat in a sling and his right leg had been bound in a brace.

“You know, this ain’t exactly inconspicuous.” T-Bone stated before they went through the door.

“You’re right. Push me in the chair. I’ll try to look well enough to actually leave.” Aiden said it jokingly, but it proved a more difficult task than he had anticipated considering he barely had the energy to stay sitting upright.

Nonetheless, no one stopped them as they made their way out of the building. Then again, T-Bone did glare daggers at anyone who looked like they might get in their way. They both breathed a sigh of relief when they made it out into the open air and headed for the car.

Unbeknownst to either of them, someone from Aiden’s “family” was searching his room twenty minutes later, concealing a suspiciously gun-shaped bulge under his coat.

* * *

Aiden dozed on the way back to the Bunker, worrying T-Bone every time he closed his eyes. When they stepped out of the shipping crate elevator, Clara rushed to greet them. She ducked underneath Aiden’s other arm and aided T-Bone in getting him down the stairs. They set him in one of the office chairs behind the desk.

Clara was the first to speak. “Aiden, are you alright?”

“Heh, not really, but I’ll live. I guess I owe you guys an explanation.”

“Yeah, I should fucking think so,” T-Bone chimed in.

Aiden commenced to tell them everything that had happened after he lost contact with them at the Merlaut. How he had cleared the lobby, but the South Club was lying in wait for him at the top of the elevator. How Lucky Quinn had showed up and had Aiden tortured and eventually used as bait. From there, T-Bone took over, telling Aiden what had happened on his and Clara’s end.

A palpable silence followed the end of the account.

Then Aiden ended it by doing something he rarely ever did. He apologized. “I’m sorry I dragged you two into this. I put both of your lives in danger and either I didn’t see it or I didn’t care. I’m not even sure which. This whole time, I thought I would be the only one affected by my actions and, well, I… I was wrong.”

T-Bone’s face had remained stoic throughout Aiden’s apology, but when Aiden finished, he exclaimed, “Holy shit! Did you hear that?” Clara glanced worryingly at the door, as if T-Bone had heard footsteps approaching. Aiden merely looked perplexed. “I think I just heard a pig fly.”

Aiden shot T-Bone a reproachful look and snapped, “Shut up, T-Bone.” But they all ended up smiling and chuckling.

Then T-Bone grew serious again. “All joking aside, Aiden, I think we both knew what we were getting into when we signed on.”

Clara nodded her head in agreement. “And besides, I owe you for my part in Lena’s death.”

“I already told you, you owe me nothing, Clara,” responded Aiden.

“The point is,” T-Bone started, bringing the conversation back around, “this whole thing isn’t about you anymore. It’s about protecting the people of Chicago from the likes of Lucky Quinn. So stop worrying about us. We weren’t the ones who almost died tonight.”

Aiden thought about what T-Bone said. He hadn’t realized it, but his mission had gone beyond simple revenge. Aiden wanted to keep Lucky Quinn from hurting anyone else the way he had hurt him. And, despite hating to admit it, he needed help.

“Let us help you, Aiden. You’re not in this alone anymore.”

“You’re right,” Aiden conceded. “I can’t do this alone.”

“So does that mean we can stop worrying about you running off to fight the biggest mob boss in Chicago history and his entire gang single-handed?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about me going anywhere. At least for a couple days,” Aiden added sarcastically.

Clara and T-Bone helped Aiden to the cot in his makeshift quarters. He fell asleep almost immediately, content that they could handle the South Club for the time being.

**THE END**


End file.
